Bah humbug
by Pyewacket75
Summary: One-shot. Written for Fox Las where the prompt was to rewrite A Christmas Carol using the characters from House. I hope you like it. :


_**A/N: This is an extended version of my entry for Fox_las, where the prompt was to rewrite A Christmas Carol using the characters of shows from the FOX network. I picked House, of course. And again, I didn't win, but I didn't lose, either. Congrats goes to Hilandmum who won for her fic "A Christmas House." Anyway, I wrote this, and then had to cut a bunch of stuff to make it less than 1000 words. I hope you enjoy :)**_

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"You're gonna end up alone, House," Wilson said, pointing his finger at his friend before he left the office. Truer words had never been spoken.

House grumbled and sipped his coffee which was now only lukewarm. He was alone now and he'd resigned himself to the fact that he would be alone until his dying day. He didn't need Wilson constantly reminding him.

Chase entered the conference room to get his things. It was the end of the day, they didn't have a patient, and it was Christmas eve. House watched the young man out of the corner of his eye as he downed the rest of his coffee and put his feet up on the desk.

Chase stared at his boss sitting alone in his dark office. A feeling of sadness for the man crept over him and he cocked his head to one side as if he was seriously contemplating something. Then he shrugged and pushed his way through the door to House's office.

"House?"

"What?" House growled.

"Do you...by any chance have plans for tomorrow?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Because...it's Christmas."

"Bah. It's just another day to me."

Chase shook his head. "Well, I'm having a party tomorrow. And a dinner. A lot of the people from here are coming. Sort of an open house kind of thing. You're welcome to come."

"I suppose you'll be having eggnog."

"Yep."

"And copious amounts of Christmas baking?"

"Yep," Chase beamed proudly. "Cameron outdid herself this year."

"Mulled wine?"

"Absolutely."

"Pshht. I hate mulled wine."

The young man's face fell. He actually hoped that House would want to come to his party. So he tried to seal the deal by adding "it'll be fun."

"I'll pass, thanks."

Chase sighed. "Suit yourself. The invitation still stands if you change your mind."

"Ha!" House snickered as he reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out his bottle of booze. After adding a generous amount to his coffee, he kicked back and took a few long sips. It had suddenly grown cold in his office and a chill went through him.

"Greg," he heard a voice whisper, and he looked around the room.

"Who's there?"

"Wilson was right, you know. You let your pride get in the way of being happy and you'll die a lonely old son of a bitch."

House knew that voice. It could only be that of his deceased father, Col. John House. It chilled him to the bone when the apparition transformed before him, dressed in full military gear.

"What do you care?" House demanded.

"I don't. But your friends do, yet you push them away. Why do you think that is?"

"I don't need their pity. And they're _not_ my friends."

"They'd like to be. All you have to do is let them in."

"Bah," House grumbled as he took another swig of his coffee. "Go away, old man. Aren't your minions waiting for you in hell?"

Colonel House merely laughed. But it was a cold, evil laugh. "Fine...I'll go. But later tonight you'll be visited by more spirits. I suggest you listen to them."

House grumbled as he finished his drink, packed up his things and went home. As usual, there was nothing on TV so he decided to have another shot of Bourbon and go to bed early.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for when he felt that familiar cool breeze enter his bedroom.

"House? Are you sleeping?"

House groaned and covered his head with the pillow. "Oh God...not you. I didn't spend six months at Mayfield for this."

"Oh relax. You're not hallucinating this time," Amber laughed as she sat on the edge of his bed. "I'm here to show you where you messed up."

"What is this? This is your life?"

"Sorta. Are you coming or not?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Then whatever. Let's get this over with."

His room filled with smoke and when it cleared, he saw himself sitting in the rehab clinic smoking a cigarette.

"Oh yeah, I remember this. I faked going to rehab so I wouldn't go to jail."

"Maybe you shouldn't have faked it. Then you would have been clean and your life would've been much better. And you might have saved your liver from all the Vicodin abuse."

"You don't know that."

"Maybe not, but I know someone who does."

"Who?"

"You'll be seeing her soon."

House was suddenly alone in his bedroom and he blinked a few times. He was clearly awake and not dreaming, but he was tired, so he fell back to sleep. However, someone had other ideas.

"Wake up, Dr. House."

"Oh, what now?" he groaned into his pillow.

"You don't want to miss this."

House looked at the young woman standing in front of him. There was definitely something familiar about her, but he couldn't place it. "Who are you?"

"Andi. I guess you don't remember me. You treated me a few years ago."

"And you died?"

"Yep. Cancer. I lived to the ripe old age of 10. I do appreciate your efforts though. Anyway, I'm here to show you what your life will become if you don't change things. You've pushed away everyone who cared about you, you've destroyed your liver. Like Dr. Wilson said, you're going to end up alone, miserable and you'll also die alone."

"So?"

"So? Is that really how you want to leave this world? Is _this_ what you want?"

Andi pointed to the far wall and a picture appeared. It was House, lying in a hospital bed, clearly near death, with nobody at his bedside. Not even a nurse.

"Everybody dies," he mumbled sullenly.

"True, but do you really want to die alone? With nobody giving a damn? And look here...your funeral."

House watched the images turn to a chapel, a casket up front, with no flowers and not one person was in the pews. "Really pack em in, don't you?" she smirked.

House couldn't say anything. He couldn't believe it. Nobody showing up to his funeral? Nobody to hold his hand as he died? It never occurred to him how much damage he'd done over the years. He'd alienated everyone who ever gave a damn about him. And now it was too late.

"It's not too late to change things, Dr. House," Andi said softly as if she could read his mind. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "They really care about you, but you need to meet them halfway. Or _that_ will be your future. Nobody wants to die alone. Not even you."

"How can I..."

"Go to Dr. Chase's party. Show them you're willing to reach out. They won't turn you away, I promise. They want you there. Even Foreman," Andi giggled.

House actually smiled back and shook his head. "Have you seen enough?" she asked him.

"Yeah."

House closed his eyes and fell back against the pillow. "What a night!"

Chase was just as surprised as anyone to find House standing at the doorstep, a large grocery bag in hand. "Is the invitation still open?" he asked, seeming a little shy and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"Of course! Come on in," he said, stepping aside. "Hey everyone, guess who's here!"

Everyone turned and looked at House, the shock evident on their faces. Everyone he knew from PPTH was there. Finally, Chase cleared his throat. "Get you a drink, House?"

"I brought you some Scotch," he said as he reached into the bag and pulled out a very nice brand in a tall round case. Again, people were speechless, while Cameron smiled from the kitchen doorway.

"Dinner's almost ready. Make yourself at home. We're glad you made it," Cameron said with a warm smile as she gave House a quick hug. "Merry Christmas, House."

He smiled back at her, and nodded to the others. "Merry Christmas."

**The End.**


End file.
